Part One –
Macy lathered her hair, stepping under the hot stream of water in the shower and exhaling. No, she wasn’t exhausted from the day at all. Quite to the contrary, she was feeling an energy she normally didn’t at 9:30 on a Wednesday night. The middle of the week wasn’t supposed to be this invigorating. But there was a reason for that.
This wasn’t just any old Wednesday night. It was the 3-month anniversary of a relationship with someone she was falling in love with at an alarmingly quick rate. His name was Miles. And they both had taken tomorrow off from work to celebrate their 3-month anniversary since she wasn’t able to get today off. So, tomorrow would be a celebration of 3 months and one day. And, in a sense, it was even more meaningful to them that way. Macy and Miles were always looking down the road, to the future. They were too new to each other to realize that nothing should ever come at the expense of the moment.
But they were learning. Every day, they were learning.
Rinsing her hair out, she remained under the stream of hot water for a moment, smiling and shrinking up her shoulders with shyness as she thought about their once-a-month confessions.
At the mark of every month, both of them made a personal confession about themselves. But it couldn’t be a trivial confession. It had to be something they wouldn’t just tell anyone. So these confessions weren’t anything like: “I like socks” or “I must have a half, double, decaffeinated, half-caf, mocha, locha latte coffee by 9am every morning or I just simply can’t function.”
And these confessions enabled them to have time to get to know each other, while also moving them forward – as the personal nature of these confessions not only opened them up to each other that much more but were also signs of trust.
When bearing one’s best kept secrets, nothing matter more than trust.
Macy turned the water off and reached outside the curtain to the toilet seat, picking up the towel she always pre-set there so she could dry off in the warmth of the shower. Wrapping the towel around her hair like a turban, she opened the shower curtain – her eyes growing big-n-wide as she saw her make-up bag sitting on the bathroom sink.
Stepping out of the tub, she ran to the sink, seeing the little note on her make-up bag that read: Time for “Dress-Up”.
“Dress-Up” was a time of playfulness where she got dolled up for Miles and it usually ended with mind-altering sex.
All but squealing with excitement, Macy unwrapped her hair and grabbed the hair dryer, getting to work at taking all the wetness out of her locks. This night just got better still. And as she dried her hair, she thought about the confessions they made at their first month anniversary.
One month in, they both saw the need to not spin wheels. And this was what led to the monthly confessions. It was an opportunity for each of them to reveal something that just might make or break them, but doing so incrementally. It was a chance to absorb something and to either accept it or to end things before they fell too much in love.
And for their first month confessions, Miles revealed that he used to steal money from his parents – just to buy candy at the store on the corner. He did this for a couple of months, and it would be years later that he told his parents. They told him they forgave him, but he insisted on paying them back. It made him feel like a bad son, a view of self he still struggled with from time to time – to this very day. And it was a constant reminder to never do something so wrong like that again.
His confession took such courage for him to admit that she felt the obligation to equal his effort.
So Macy revealed that she used to cut herself, making razor lacerations on her hips as a way of dealing with her parents’ never-ending shouting and yelling at each other. Her mother and father only got married because her mother got pregnant with Macy. They never should’ve gotten married. They were anything but a good match and Macy often heard her father shouting that if her mother hadn’t gotten pregnant, he never would’ve married her. So, Macy felt like her parents’ marriage problems were her fault.
She would eventually stop cutting herself when she realized that, even though her parents hated each other, they both loved her dearly. And they never got divorced.
It took a lot for both of them to reveal these secrets, just one month into knowing each other. But the result of doing so drew them together closely, in a rather quick manner. And with cutting and money stealing on the table, they were not only free to ask questions but also free to reveal a bit more. This was what made grow into best friends, love was on the way.
But there was a little something more to it that defined them. Miles told a story of how he did something that could have hurt other people. Macy told a story of how she was hurt by someone else. This would become an important difference between them in the next month.
Now that her hair was dry, pin straight and silky smooth, Macy moved right onto her make-up. And she wasn’t wasting time with it, realizing it needed to look good with the Earth toner light browns, but also realizing it was only to be a lightweight application … for mere flirting purposes. The only thing she took time in getting perfect was the eye liner.
Oh, did Miles love her eye liner.
Satisfied that her make-up and hair would do to him exactly what they were supposed to do, she picked up the towel and walked over to hang it on the towel rod. On that rod, she found a white satin poofy-sleeved belly shirt … the one that barely covered her chest. Putting it on, she stood in front of the bathroom mirror – primping and fluffing and perting her boobs. She knew there would be no bra going on underneath it. So, it needed to support her C cups … a little bit, at least. And as she resituated herself, she thought about their confessions of last month … month #2.
And for their second month confessions, Miles revealed that, as he had grown older, he had become more and more emotional … to the point where tears came to his eyes at moments that made no sense. And while becoming emotionally overloaded wasn’t necessarily a bad thing, when it happened, it always embarrassed him because he couldn’t answer as to why he had just become emotional.
Macy told him that girls dealt with that overload too. And then Miles assured he wasn’t becoming a girl, giving both of them an opportunity to laugh a little.
Then Macy took a moment to collect herself before making a very embarrassing confession. What he just revealed to her was anything but easy for him to have said. And she needed to go to the same depths of truth. So, she told him that she had a fantasy that was more than a fantasy to her. It was a fetish that she thought about every day. It had sexual appeal for her, but it wasn’t for everybody. It was called ageplay. And her interest in it was to be a BabyGirl … in a diaper.
Before she left the bathroom, wearing nothing but a white satin, poofy-sleeved belly shirt, she checked her pink toenails and fingernails to make certain they didn’t need touched up. Then she turned to face the closed bathroom door, wondering what his 3-month confession would be that night. She already knew what her confession was going to be, and she was a bit worried how he would react.
But that was hours from now. There was “Dress-Up” time to be enjoyed first. And this was her favorite thing to do with him.
On the night she revealed her BabyGirl interests to him, she was put in a diaper right away. And she had spent quite a bit of time in this past month as his BabyGirl. It gave her time to find the things she liked about it and the things she hated about it. She loved the dress-up, especially the diapers. But she hated having to act like a babbling baby. So, being his BabyGirl grew into a sexual additive, keeping her adorable and submissive but allowing her to remain with an adult personality … most of the time, at least.
Opening the bathroom door, she squeaked with shock, then covering her mouth and trying not to laugh. Miles was standing on the other side of that door with an enormous grin on his face. Embracing him gently, she denied the impulse to smash her body against him and rest her face on his sternum, like usual. She was wearing new make-up, after all. And yes, it was gonna get messed as would her hair. But not yet, for crying out loud!
Taking her by the hand, he slowly walked her back to the bedroom – Macy following after him with quick, tiny steps as she tried to keep up with his strides. And she found it to be easier when barefoot. When they would go out and she would be in heels, she would have to be careful as to not allow her quick, tiny steps to make her tumble to the ground.
Macy loved his house. It was spacious, with wide hallways and enormous bedrooms. Everything seemed so large that she developed a comfort in always feeling small in his house. She was his BabyGirl, after all. Just being around him made her feel small. So why shouldn’t her entire world follow suit?
He led her into the master bedroom and her eyes were drawn right away to what was laying on the king-sized bed … a white disposable diaper, a thick one – unfolded, placed flat on the mattress and awaiting her. Next to the diaper was a pair of white satin bloomers, the matching bottoms to her belly shirt.
Macy tingled all over, exactly how she always did when he put her in a diaper. But every time he did it, her tingles grew just a bit stronger as she knew what to expect. Keeping her eyes locked on the diaper and bloomers on the bed, she did her best to toddle along with his guidance – her mind already retreating away from the adult version of herself. Plunking a pacifier in her mouth, Miles picked her up – Macy coming out of her daze … wrapping her arms around his neck and her legs around his waist.
She always felt so small when he picked her up like that and even smaller when he carried her around in his arms.
Keeping his hands on her back, Miles eased her down onto the mattress and onto the flattened diaper. Her bottom came to rest within the soft innards of the diaper. It was one of thick diapers he put her in at nighttime. The thickness made her feel small. And it seemed everything about being his BabyGirl made her feel that way.
Macy gazed up at the ceiling of the bedroom as Miles got what else he needed to diaper her. And she wondered how many times in the past month she had been in this exact position, looking up at the overhead light above that king-sized bed. She remembered the first time she was on her back on his bed, getting put into a diaper – and how the butterflies in her stomach were so intense that she got dizzy while laying down.
Miles pinched her ankles together, lifting her legs and bottom up into the air. Macy kept her hands and arms out of the way, this being the first of many positions that would make her feel like a baby. Feeling the heavy application of the cool and silky baby powder he always coated her with, she breathed deeply through her nose – smiling sweetly behind her pacifier. The scent of powder was more familiar to her now than anything else she used to scent any part of herself.
Closing her eyes, she took a moment to revel in the Heavenly feeling of that powder. It was like little, tiny droplets of soothing rain, just in a powdery form. The only thing more addicting for her than baby powder were the diapers themselves … and having a Daddy, of course.
With her backside properly coated and seasoned, Macy’s bottom was lowered back into the soft innards of that thick diaper – her legs, as well, brought down to the mattress and parted. And this put her in the next position that made her feel like a baby. Rarely would she find herself in this position, were she not being diapered by him. There was sex, yes. And in those instances, sure … her legs were parted … when they were doing missionary.
But a woman never saw this position, otherwise. It was one of the unique benefits of being a BabyGirl, to be vulnerable like this and not just for the purpose of being taken sexually …… at least not yet, anyways.
How did she get so lucky? This was the thought in her head as she gazed up at him. She revealed her fetish to him. And then somehow, all of this happened. It wasn’t blind faith that had led to this. It was sheer luck. She rolled the dice and won. The Daddy-n-BabyGirl thing always began in her mind and it always wound up going physical. It was as much a part of their foreplay as kissing was. But there was a build-up to the sexual. And “Dress-Up” was the initiator.
As Miles made another heavy coating of powder on her front, that cool and silky feeling only drew her arousal more so to a fine point, not fever-pitched yet … but well on the way. And the first traces of it were arriving.
Folding the front of the thick diaper up and into place, Miles fastened the tapes snuggly at her hips. Macy grinned from cheek to cheek, still happily nursing her pacifier. Oh, what a feeling. And she knew what was next.
Placing her feet flat to the mattress, she lifted her freshly diapered center. Miles reached underneath her and up to the back waistband of her diaper, grabbing the elastic edging and giving her diaper a tug upward … a gesture he called: the snug tug.
The first thing Macy fell in love with about a diaper was how it felt. Every time she got put into one, she always took a few moments to bask in the feeling of its envelopment. It was the whole swaddling idea. It was a constant, close feeling that always stayed with, always filled her little mind with such thoughts and always reminded her of who she was on the inside.
And as she basked, Miles picked up the matching white satin bloomers, slid them up her legs and over her diaper. Placing her hands on the front of the bloomers, Macy closed her eyes again – pressing inward on the front of her diaper while gently rocking her hips. Yes, she was pure-n-innocent at times. But she was also human, flesh and blood. And as susceptible to the natural urges of arousal as anyone else. Those cravings within her had begun already.
As she grinded gently, Miles slipped a pair of ankle socks on her feet – followed by a pair of sneakers.
Rarely did Macy wear any shoes that had shoelaces. She was accustomed to just stepping into her footwear. So she always kept her sneakers pre-tied to be able to slip into them quickly and easily too.
Then she opened her eyes, the “Dress-Up” now being complete. Her mind was not only racing with what would happen the rest of that night but she also had thoughts about her outfit …… a matching belly shirt top and bloomer bottoms of white satin – gathered at the arm holes, midriff hole, waistline hole and leg holes to make for a slightly poofier fit on her, that thick diaper and heavy powdering, her pacifier, her socks and her sneakers.
Wait … sneakers! Why had he put her in sneakers?
Up off the bed she went, stood to her feet with haste by Miles. Out of the bedroom he led her with a quickness, heading straight towards the front door at the same pace. It was like he wasn’t allowing her time to process anything.
How right she was about that.
Now wait a minute! Were they going somewhere? It was 10pm! And she was dressed in a very provocative way! Provocative, at least, in the sense of leaving the house dressed like this!
She couldn’t believe her feet weren’t fighting against him, not even in some sort of mode of survival way. But she had been lured into BabyGirl mode and was quite submissive at that point. So, her forbearances were low, if not also non-existent, presently. She couldn’t resist him, even if she truly wanted to. But this didn’t stop a plethora of questions from entering her little mind as she nursed rapidly on her pacifier:
Where were they going?
Was he really going to take her out of the house, out into public – dressed like a BabyGirl?
What if someone she knew saw her?
What if anyone saw her, regardless of whether they knew her or not?
Was it obvious she was diapered?
What was going to happen?
Continue on to Part Two